


It Only Takes a Taste

by bellabeatrice



Series: Bella's Parkner Week 2019 [3]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - No Powers, But it's Mild, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, rated for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 06:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20110315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellabeatrice/pseuds/bellabeatrice
Summary: Peter Parker, the genius behind Spider Bites’ amazing baked goods, also happens to deliver said baked goods to the coffee shop The Iron Mug. Harley Keener, a barista at The Iron Mug, is smitten.Parkner Week 2019 Day Three: “Dropped My Croissant” / Baking / Non Powered AU





	It Only Takes a Taste

**Author's Note:**

> I love coffee shop and cafe AUs, so I just couldn’t resist. Sue me :) Title inspired by the musical Waitress.

Harley’s eyes widen as he sees the crowd of tourists streaming into the coffee shop. The cases of baked goods are practically empty, and Harley curses the delivery boy. “Abbie, do we have an ETA on the delivery?”

“Negative. You know, for a genius, that boy is scatterbrained. Peter’s probably just running late. Why? Finally gonna get over yourself and ask the boy out?” His sister emerges from the back room. “Oh, shit. That’s a crowd.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Help me out? You have more patience with hungry tourists than I do.”

“Sure thing. Keep an eye out for the buzzer,” Abbie says, heading to the till to take the first order.

Harley works on autopilot as he makes the first iced latte. He and Abbie have been working at The Iron Mug for the whole summer, and it’s almost second nature by now. The little coffee shop is owned by their family friend Tony Stark, who took a vacation with his fiancee Pepper and left the shop in the Keeners’ care.

“What do you mean that’s the last cake pop?” An angry mother of three clingy children is yelling at Abbie, who wears a thin smile on her face. 

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but our afternoon delivery hasn’t come yet. I’m sure it will be here in the next ten to fifteen minutes if you’d like to wait.” The mother huffs but stomps away to a table to wait, anyway.

The buzzer goes off as Harley slides a kale and ginger smoothie to the last waiting customer. “I’ll get it!” he all but yells at Abbie, pushing through the swinging double door to get to the back room. He throws a middle finger over his shoulder as his sister laughs.

Spider Bites is an independent baking company founded by Ben Parker. May Parker took over after Ben’s death, and she runs the company alongside her nephew Peter Parker, whose excellence in chemistry manifested itself in a love for creating outrageous pastries and cakes. Just before the beginning of summer, Spider Bites and The Iron Mug struck up a deal, and now The Iron Mug sells Spider Bites’ baked goods. 

The delivery comes twice a day, once in the morning before the shop opens, and once in the afternoon. With the delivery comes the delivery boy and master baker himself, Peter Parker.

Harley opens the back door and absolutely fails at keeping a disgruntled expression when he sees Peter struggling under the weight of a dozen trays. Peter perks up when he sees Harley. “Is this The Iron Mug?”

“Yes, dipshit. Get in here. You’re late,” Harley says, but it comes off more fond than scolding.

“There was traffic?” Peter replies with a cheeky grin. 

Harley swallows down a laugh. “Mhm, sure. Still doesn’t get you out of helping me load the display cases.”

“Anything for you, Princess.” Peter winks, and it makes Harley want to scream.

He has a little crush on Peter, which might be a bit of an understatement if he’s being honest. It only took a taste, and that’s how he knew Peter Parker was something special. One bite, and that was enough for him to realize he needed more.

Harley takes half of the stack of trays and follows Peter into the shop. He’s so distracted by trying to calm his rapid heartbeat that he bumps into Peter.

“Harley! I could’ve dropped my croissants!” Harley smacks the boy lightly for the vine reference.

“There better be more than croissants in these trays. I know you like to make guinea pigs out of my customers, but I have one grumpy mother whose kids have been clamoring for cake pops for the past ten minutes. Abbie’s about to drive her head through the register.”

Peter looks sheepishly at Harley. “Whoops.”

Harley stares in horror. “No. Is this a joke?”

Peter’s expression wavers for a split second, and it gives him away. The boy bursts into laughter as Harley smacks him again. “Kidding!”

“You’re the worst, Parker!”

The door to the back opens, and a weary Abbie steps in. “The two of you better stop flirting and start loading up the display before I lose my goddamn mind.”

“Where d'you pick up that potty mouth?” Peter asks, picking up a tray and tugging on Abbie’s ponytail on the way to the counter. “You’re like ten years old.”

“I’m thirteen!” Abbie shouts after him, grabbing a tray of her own.

Harley follows them to the counter, and between the three of them, the display cases are loaded in no time. Peter hands three cake pops free of charge to the mother who waited, along with a personal apology for being late. The lady smiles at him and forgives him immediately because who can resist Peter’s charm? No one can, except for maybe Abbie, and least of all, Harley.

Business at the shop slows down at this hour, so Abbie dismisses them with a wave of her hand and a wink. Harley pointedly ignores her as he leads Peter to the office, where Peter immediately claims the spinny chair as his own.

“I threw in an extra chocolate muffin for Abbie,” he says. “It should be in the bottom tray.”

Harley pouts. “Nothing for me?”

Peter smirks and reaches into his giant apron pockets. They’re seriously giant. Harley once witnessed the other boy pull out a whole hand mixer from his pocket once, and since then, he’s been mildly terrified. “And of course, macarons for my favorite barista, as long as you don’t tell Abbie I said that.”

Harley quickly snatches the plastic box with a grin. “Deal. You’re the best, Petey Pie. What flavors are these?”

“Dragonfruit, apple, and watermelon. I went on an experimenting binge last night, and we had a lot of fruits lying around. There’s also a classic dark chocolate one in there if you hate the other ones. You Keeners have a killer sweet tooth.”

“You supply us with an endless supply of the best pastries in New York. You’re the cause of our sweet tooth.”

“Ah,” Peter says, with a smirk. “So I’m the devil.”

Harley snorts, but he’s so flustered it sounds more like he’s blowing his nose. God, this is embarrassing. “At worst, you’re an enabler. You’re too good to be the devil, more like an angel.”

Peter leans back in his chair and pouts. “But I want to be the devil! Everyone likes villains more because villains seem more attainable and human than the heroes, who are put on a pedestal. Also, the villains are hot.”

“If it makes you feel better, I think you’d be the hottest superhero around.” Harley freezes as the words come out. Crap. He didn’t mean to actually say that out loud. 

Peter laughs, and Harley can feel his face turning red. “Well then, you’ll be my sidekick, won’t you? Or will you be my damsel in distress?”

Harley can’t breathe. Is he dreaming? There’s no way Peter’s actually sort of asking him out. He’s got to be dreaming, but he just wishes his dream self were a bit more clever and clear-headed. “Damsel in distress sounds fine?” His voice breaks at the end, and it’s embarrassing. He’s hopeless, really. 

“Great. Saturday night at six o’clock sound good?”

Harley gapes. “What?”

“Princess,” Peter says, leaning forward with a wicked smile. “Will you go out on a date with me on Saturday at six?”

“Yes.” The words are out of his mouth in a heartbeat. It’s all he’s ever wanted, so it’s not like he needs a long time to decide, anyway. “Undeniably yes.”

Peter beams, and it makes Harley’s heart melt how happy Peter looks and how tightly he hugs him as he stands. 

“Well then,” Peter says. “I’ll see you tomorrow for delivery?”

“Sure,” Harley replies breathlessly. “Just don’t be late.”

Peter cackles all the way out the back door.

**Author's Note:**

> I might write a longer fic in this universe one day. We’ll see. Let me know what you think! Catch me on Tumblr @bellaxbeatrice


End file.
